Finally Seeing the Obvious
by lakeoptimisticbenbow
Summary: Now that the locked Studio room has been opened, there are many things for Lucien Blake to discover. But some things are hidden in his heart. A 2019 Blake Secret Santa Fic for @missouiser


Blake Secret Santa 2019 for missouiser. The prompt was 'Lucien/Jean, series 1-3, anything angst or hurt/comfort or even fluff (whatever you prefer)'.

**L**ucien Blake put his mother's painting of Agnes Clasby on the mantel of the fireplace in the studio. Although the dust and cobwebs had been banished, there was still a lot to take in. Genevieve's studio was not a mystery room or darkened space any longer. With the lights turned on and sheets removed from furniture it looked both familiar and curiously strange. Last time he had been there he was just a boy. It was a place he spent lots of time in, but it was Maman's Studio. Lucien didn't ever clean or have responsibility for putting things away. There were so many things in stacks and piled up on tables. Containers and paint brushes, books, flower vases, canvases of various sizes. He didn't even know where to begin.

But this afternoon had been another case finally solved, and he felt exhausted, his mind going in circles with facts and questions. Turning off the light, he left the doors open to the studio and walked to his bedroom. Jean had just started going upstairs, she heard him coming out of the studio and called "Goodnight, Lucien" and he replied to her. "Goodnight, Jean. Sleep well."

—–  
Jean. Oh, my, so many things had been going on with them the past month. Again, he felt overwhelming fuzziness to his mind. No drink tonight. Sleep. Just sleep. He tried to use some of his old techniques to shut his mind off. He used to be able to clear his mind and grab a nap when he had the opportunity, wherever he was. But, instead, thinking of training made him think about another case, and about the spy who was killed in the park, and the unraveling of the various identities. Lucien wondered if that could have been him, in another 10 years, if he had not come back to Ballarat.

Go to sleep.

If he had not received the telegram, had not stopped working for the government, would he have started relationships, like that man did? Weaving imagined backstories to connect with a woman and ease the loneliness? Walking away when the job required and starting again somewhere else? Hard to imagine. The loneliness, yes, that was sometimes so strong. But the delight in observing, choosing a body or a beautiful face, flirting and trying out various seduction routines. None of that was the least enticing, and it felt like it had been ages ago that the game held any appeal. If he had continued with his work as a government agent, what would he be doing now?

No, change thoughts, need sleep!

Go back to the park, with Jean. There is a thought to dwell upon. He had not expected that to be as easy and comfortable as it was, once they both sat down and imitated the scene as they had discussed. Her arms on his shoulders, her eyes looking into his. Warm sun, his arm around Jean, feeling good. Sleepy.

—–  
When Jean first heard the screaming it startled her, then it was clear to her that Lucien was having a nightmare again. If Mattie had not been away in Melbourne, they both would have probably headed for Lucien's room. Jean opened the door and Lucien had quieted. But she paused and waited. He started thrashing around like he was trying to hold onto something, all the while getting his covers twisted further around one arm. "No, no, no, please". Jean turned on the light by his bed and leaned over, trying to catch his hand as she called his name gently. He gave a shout and sat up quickly, still reaching as if to grab something, and when Jean caught his left hand, he grabbed tight and brought his right hand over to her arm. He was sort of clawing at her, but not too forcefully. Breathing heavily, he looked at her for a moment and then looked away, embarrassed and confused. Jean quietly murmured to him "its alright, you are safe, its alright, I am here, right here with you." He did not loosen his grip on her hand and arm.

"Where were you? Can you tell me?" Jean asked. She did not move. There was quiet, and Lucien took a long breath and let it out slowly.

"I know it was awhile ago and just part of my job," Lucien spoke into the space between his bed and the wall "But going down the ladder into the mine shaft, it was weeks ago but, it just…well I got trapped in the dark and I needed to climb out but couldnt find the ladder and then it sort of turned into being underground at the camp in Changi and I can't." He stopped speaking and kept trying to slow his breathing. Jean moved closer and pulled at his shoulder, trying to bring him closer to her, into the dim light by the bed. "Jean" he sighed. Jean gave him another squeeze with both hands and then pulled away, standing up and smoothing her skirt she turned to walk out.

"I'm going to put the kettle on and I'd like you to come out and have a cuppa with me". She turned on the main bedroom light as she passed the switch.

—  
Lucien got up, smoothed down his hair a bit, and he went to the loo. Looking in the mirror, he saw that his hair was not smoothed a bit. But he decided to ignore it. Tying the sash of his bathrobe, he walked toward the kitchen and he met Jean with a tray going the opposite way. "In here" she said. He followed her into the studio, and she nodded her head toward the couch. "Right here" she said as she put the tray down on a table and pulled it over closer. "We haven't spent any time here yet." She sat down and poured their tea, handed him his cup, and then turned sideways to face him on the couch. Jean looked at Lucien with searching eyes, hopeful expression, and with a concern that he saw to be deep and real. Lucien blew on his cup and gave a brief reassuring smile to her, then glanced around the room. "Better?" asked Jean. "Yes, much. Thank you, Jean. "

Jean put her cup back on the tray and scooted a bit over towards Lucien, and he took two sips and then also put his cup down. He lifted his left arm and she came further over, leaning into him.

"You know, Jean, I think if I had not been down in the mine right before that Honor Reception, I would not have been drinking so much, it was so upsetting. I was not planning to go, you know that, but it all made me so angry and thinking of the men that never made it back home, and these blowhards congratulating themselves and having a reception like they were a big success. I never thought about how". "Yes" Jean interrupted. "Yes, but we already talked about it, you already apologized, and it is not important." She pulled away and turned to look at him. "Lucien, I want you to tell me something about this room. A memory you have that happened here", Jean gestured to the room with one hand and grabbed a biscuit with the other. She offered one to Lucien and then picked up her cup again. Lucien took a bite and looked around, chewing thoughtfully. He finished his biscuit and took some sips of tea.

—–  
Clapping his hands together he said "alright. I remember coming in after school one day and this wall over here was a bright purple". Jean repeated "Purple? " Lucien laughed and stood up. He walked over to a wall that had books and other things piled up along the floor and a couple of paintings hanging on it. The color was just the same as the whole room, something beige, but the shade was not obvious in the light from the table lamp.

"Right here" he gestured from ceiling to floor with his right hand. "Purple, darker shades toward the ceiling and lighter, brighter purple from about here to the floor." He laughed; the memory actually set him to giggling a bit. "Almost a deep pink along this molding here!" This made Jean laugh with him. "What?!" she shrieked. "Yes, for some reason, my mother was experimenting and kind of got carried away with the wall. And when I asked her what had happened, she pretended not to see the purple at all. She kept that up until after dinner when I took my father in to see, and I was laughing and Maman was still saying she didn't know what I was going on about. But when my father looked, he just shook his head and walked back into the sitting room. He never spoke of it at all." "Oh, Lucien" Jean sighed, her face reflecting her sadness, her headed tilting to the side. But Lucien held up his index finger and beckoned to her. She came over and he directed her to the corner. Getting down on her knees, where the wall met floor, there was something written.

In childish little letters, in light purple paint, was - Lucien Radcliffe Blake 1918 -.

While Jean still looked and marveled, Lucien laughed gently. "Maman" he said quietly. Looking at Jean again his face lit up with a wide smile "It was wonderful, a moment after my father left the room, she turned on every light in the room, And then she cried out in shock 'what has happened to this wall?!' She ooohed and ahhed with me about the color and the way the shades changed across the diagonal, and then she said we were the only two people who could see it. She smoothed over my father's refusal to play along by saying how happy she was to share this secret with me. On my birthday that year she helped me to write my name there, in the lightest purple, and she said that it would always be there even if the wall was no longer purple. Haven't thought about this for ages but I am just amazed that the wall is back to a neutral color. And my name is still here! She must have done this herself, I don't think my father would have been so careful."

Lucien reached down and Jean took his hand. He pulled her up and as she stood, he leaned towards her. She put her arms around his neck and they hugged.

"What a lovely memory, what an amazing mother you had" Jean murmured in his ear. They stood for a moment longer and then he turned and led her to the couch.

"C'mon" he said. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap so quickly it startled her and made her laugh. He looked at her with such obvious joy, and her stomach did a little flip feeling. She felt giddy and happy and a little bit afraid. Lucien cupped her face with his hand and pulled her gently, closer to his face. When they kissed, it was sweet and gentle, his lips were so warm and perfect. But then he put his other arm around her, and she adjusted her arms to get closer as well. Now he nipped lightly at her bottom lip and she laughed, and then their mouths opened to one another and it was a whole different kiss. Jean began to feel both aroused and embarrassed, sitting on his lap that way was suddenly a very intimate act.

She pulled back, gave another peck to his lips and stood up. Lifting the tray with cups and teapot, Jean started walking away. Her face was flushed, and her body felt so tingly. She tried to speak lightly, friendly, as if it were a normal evening ending in the sitting room, not 2am in the newly discovered studio. "I'm going to put these in the kitchen and turn out the lights".

Lucien sat on the couch, his right arm still in the air where her shoulder had been, his left arm fell slowly to his lap, his mouth was half open. He watched Jeans hips as she swayed out of the room. His mind struggled for some kind of answer, he had so many questions all at the same time. SO many feelings, he was practically thrumming with energy and pleasure and he wanted more. But he could not conclude what to do next. What just happened? Yes, they had been delightfully close many times before, almost kissed before. But this was like something so comfortable! It felt so, um, well, what? He tried to grab at a thought. What is it? "Lucien" Jean called him.

NORMAL! It felt normal, like this was something they do all the time! He felt and thought it was normal! He grinned like an idiot.

"Lucien?" Jean came walking back into the studio. She looked perplexed and had her eyebrow raised in that way he loved. Loved? Yes, that was the correct word for it

"LUUcien! WHAT are you doing?"

He could not speak, just kept smiling up at her with so much happiness that she laughed despite herself. Her laughter freed his voice. "Jean, my darling", Lucien said as he stood up and took her hand. He turned out the table lamp, then walked into the hallway. Still holding her hand, he started leading her up the stairs. As she turned off the hall light, she said softly "there are no nightmares in my room."

"That's what I am counting on", said Lucien into her ear as he guided her through the bedroom door. His wide strong hand on the small back of her ugly pink robe.

—–

After that, I don't have the words to explain further, but if I did it would be rated M. IYKWIMAITYD


End file.
